


Fall Into Happiness

by melliejellie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: BoKuroo Week 2020, College, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Just bros being bros in love, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Slice of Life, Summer Festival, and they were ROOMMATES, kisses...you know the platonic kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23438797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melliejellie/pseuds/melliejellie
Summary: Over the years they’ve been friends, the word “love” has changed for Bokuto to Kuroo. What began as a slap on the back and a “love ya, man” has grown into something more, but neither Bokuto nor Kuroo seem to be paying much attention.***Little slice of life peeks into Bokuto and Kuroo living together in college written for Bokuroo Week 2020!
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 134
Kudos: 323





	1. Day 1: affection

Kuroo knows that Bokuto’s home less from the sound of the front door opening and more from the way Bokuto crashes into their apartment, dropping all his bags, and loudly slugging his way through the hallway towards the kitchen.

It used to startle him during their first year. Now, though, he’s used to it.

“Welcome home,” he shouts from the kitchen where he’s cutting onions for dinner.

“I’m so tired,” he groans loudly, bursting in through the doorway leading into their tiny kitchen. Still sweaty from practice, he drapes himself over Kuroo’s shoulders, resting his head against his back. “That smells good,” he says sleepily.

Kuroo tries to slip out. “Gross, you’re still all sweaty. Didn’t you shower at the gym?”

“I did, but then I ended up practicing some more so-- are you making enough for me?”

Kuroo gives up trying to struggle out of the hold and relaxes into it, readjusting so he can still cut with his big, sweaty monkey on his back. “Of course. You know I always do. You’re always starving after practice and you rarely make yourself anything decent. Cereal is not a dinner for an athlete, Bo.”

“It is when you eat a whole box. Anyway I love when you cook.”

“Because you don’t have to?”

“Well yeah, that and your food is better.” Kuroo feels Bokuto starting to pull away, sniffling. “How do you stand those onions? They’re so strong!”

“I’m used to it.” Kuroo keeps cutting as Bokuto slides off his back and settles next to him, leaning on the counter a little further away. Kuroo sneaks a peek at his face. He misses him on his long Tuesdays and Thursdays - back to back classes and labs all day.

He sputters out a laugh. “Are you crying?”

“I told you they were strong,” Bokuto defends.

“Ha, weak dude. They’re just onions.”

Bokuto scrunches his face into an exaggerated sneer before he stands up tall, both hands on his hips, one eyebrow raised and says - nothing. He opens his mouth like he wants to have some witty retort, but nothing comes out.

He slumps. “I’m so freaking tired.”

“Go shower, stinky. Dinner will be done when you’re out.”

***

Stomachs full and eyelids droopy, they both spawl out on the one old couch they have. There’s a chair in the corner but neither of them ever sit there. It’s not soft. And it’s cold. Bokuto’s on his end. Kuroo’s on the other. Their legs are an awkward tangle in the middle, though Bokuto’s one leg keeps slipping off.

They’re rewatching a series they’ve already seen all the way through at least four times, but it’s a Thursday and they’re both wiped from the week already. Kuroo’s arms are wrapped around a pillow he’s resting his chin on and Bokuto’s on the other end, looking at something on his phone while his head keeps dipping back as he keeps dozing off.

“Thanks for washing my hoodies,” Kuroo remembers to say as Netflix asks them if they’re still watching. He presses next.

Bokuto stretches his legs as part of a big yawn and his feet creep further into Kuroo’s space.

Kuroo reaches over and tickles the bottom of his foot.

He gets kicked in response.

Worth it.

“No problem,” Bokuto replies, “I saw your favorite one on the back of the couch and I thought I’d go ahead and wash it. I was doing a load anyway.”

“Well, thanks. It was smelling pretty bad.”

“I know, bro. I wasn’t going to say anything--”

“Except you did!”

“Yeah, and then I washed it,” Bokuto yawns through his retort. “Least I could do after all the times you fill my gut with food. The _gyudon_ was delicious, by the way.”

Kuroo shrugs off the compliment. “It’s super easy. Even you could make it.”

“Nope. Remember the toaster fire last year?”

At that, Kuroo laughs but the sound melts into a groan. “Impossible to forget. The stain is still on the ceiling. We’re going to have to rent here until we die or find a way to actually paint over it, not all the failed attempts we’ve had so far.”

“See, I’m not allowed in there. S’kay. You cook. I’ll wash hoodies.”

Bokuto goes back to his phone and Kuroo waits a moment, chewing over his words before he manages to ask, “Think I’ve made enough dinners to ask for another favor?”

“What’cha need?” Bokuto drops his phone on the couch to give Kuroo his full attention. The intensity of having both of those bright eyes on him with no blinking is still something Kuroo can’t fully get used to. He feels warm under that gaze.

“Think you can come with me to another party this weekend?” Kuroo asks sheepishly.

He knows Bokuto enjoys being the center of attention and entertaining the crowds, but as a top notch athlete he doesn’t drink and Kuroo knows he only sticks around after a certain point to make sure Kuroo gets home alright.

“Yeah, of course. Where we goin’?”

Kuroo shakes his head, already sorry for asking. It’s not Bokuto’s fault that, for all the personality he can manage around his close friends or in places where he’s comfortable, he still has the hardest time making new connections, especially since coming to college.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I just, now that I’ve declared my major, I feel like I need to make friends in my new department and I--”

“I don’t know why you get so nervous. You’re awesome.”

Kuroo throws his head back with a low whine. “But I don’t _feel_ awesome when a whole bunch of new people are staring at me and I’ve just made some lame joke--”

“I like your jokes.”

Kuroo rights himself, tilting his head and looking back at the TV. “Eh, maybe I’ll just skip it. Stay here. Watch a movie.”

He blinks when the show pauses. He turns. Bokuto’s got the remote in his hands and he’s staring Kuroo down again, his brows furrowed with determination.

“Dude, the movie’s gonna be here when we get back. Let’s go make you some more nerd friends!”

It does help, having Bokuto with him. Kuroo seems to be able to dig down into that confident, happy part of himself when his friend is around. And it never hurts that Bokuto can make instant friends out of anyone, whether they want to or not. “Everybody always love you, Bo.”

“And they’re gonna love ya, too, man. Just like I do!”

***

Bokuto falls asleep on the couch sometime between their seventh and eighth episode that night. Kuroo shuts off the TV and carefully extracts himself from the pile of legs in the middle of their couch. He tiptoes around. Even knowing that Bokuto sleeps like the dead, he wants to be careful.

First he gently lifts his head and puts a pillow underneath it so he won’t wake up with a neck cramp. Then he stretches out each of his legs. And finally he grabs two blankets, one from the back of the couch and one from his own room, and carefully tucks him in because Bokuto likes to feel like a little burrito when he’s sleeping.

As he turns to go to his room, the desire to press a kiss to his forehead wells up within him. It’s no different than all their other casual touches. They’re close like that and Bokuto’s a very tactile person. It’s no different, he tells himself again. On silent feet he walks until he’s hovering above him, listening to Bokuto snore a little through his wide-open mouth. He bends, breathing in the scent of Bokuto’s shampoo, and presses a feather light kiss on a spot just under the soft stands of Bokuto’s loose and messy hair.


	2. Day 2: music/dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo likes to sing in their apartment. And in the shower. And, one drunken night, to the sleepy streets on the walk home from a bar. Sleepy, swaying, singing Kuroo gets rather clingy, too.

Bokuto steps in to their apartment and announces that he’s home the same way he always does, by yelling for Kuroo and dropping all his crap on the floor. There’s no answer, though, but he knows Kuroo’s home because the vacuum is running and Kuroo’s singing voice is carrying through all the way to the front door.

His grins wide, imagining sneaking up on him and making him jump out of his skin. The plan carries him into the living room on light feet. He’s pretty sure Kuroo has headphones on, he usually does when he’s cleaning, but just to be sure, he’s careful. Bokuto peeks around the corner into their living room and, sure enough, Kuroo’s wearing his big, noise-cancelling headphones and singing lyrics at the top of his lungs while pushing the vacuum back and forth. But that’s not all.

There’s dance moves. Jerky, wonderful, awkward dance moves. Like Kuroo has some kind of practiced routine. One hand pushes the vacuum while the other runs through his hair or snaps to the side as his hip pops out to the side with it. He rolls his body with the music and keeps singing, his voice straining from the physical effort every few bars.

Bokuto knows, somewhere in the back of his mind, that this is the perfect time to strike. Kuroo’s back is to him and he’s clearly in another world. But he can’t bring himself to do it. Watching his best friend make a fool of himself is cheering him up after a long day and an inexplicably moody practice more than anything else could. He watches him sing and sway, dancing with that old vacuum cleaner, and his heart feels full.

***

Bokuto’s only just gotten back home from a late night, eat-too-much hangout with the other players on his semi-pro team when he gets a text from one of Kuroo’s chemistry friends. He slips his shoes back on, reaches for his coat, and heads back out, locking the door behind him.

When he gets to the bar, it takes him a little while to spot the group of friends, but they catch sight of him first, drunkenly waving him over.

“Bokutooooo-saaaaaaaaan,” one of Kuroo’s friend yells, embracing him in a tight hug. “I’m so haaaaaappy you’re heeeeeeeere.”

One of Kuroo’s other friends reaches over to pull the other man away, apologizing for his choices. She’s the one that texted Bokuto in the first place. It’s clear from the look in her eyes that she’s on the other side of drunk, the one where she is very tired and wants to be in bed.

“Thank you for coming, Bokuto-san. I didn’t want to send Kuroo home by himself and I’m afraid my apartment is already spoken for, full of too many other drunkies. I’m trying to safely get home as many as I can before I bring the rest back with me.” She sighs loudly. “There’s something about finishing exams that makes us all stupid.”

He finds Kuroo slumped over a table top, his head cradled in his folded arms. Bokuto slides into the booth next to him. He tries shaking his shoulders, “Kuroo, I’m here to take you home, buddy.”

It takes several tries, but Kuroo blinks his eyes open. He grimaces as even the dim light of the bar is too much for him.

“Come on, Kuroo, it’s time to go home,” Bokuto says again, his arm wrapped around his friend’s shoulders.

“Mmm, Bokuto, you’re here for me?” Kuroo asks, the words tumbling out, all slurred together.

Bokuto nods, already thinking of the things he’ll do at home to get him cleaned up and ready for bed, hopefully finding some ways to cut back on the massive hangover he’s surely going to have in the morning. 

“That’s so nice,” Kuroo adds, his eyes suddenly welling up with tears.

“Alright, alright, let’s go,” Bokuto says with more urgency, already seeing the signs of weepy-drunk Kuroo. Usually he’s a dancy, happy, clingy, singy drunk. Now it seems like he’s crossed over into the clingy, weepy, sentimental drunk.

Bokuto dips his shoulder underneath Kuroo’s and hoists him out of the booth and onto his feet. It takes a few tries, but then Kuroo’s steadying his body weight against him. And though it’s going to take considerable effort to walk them the few blocks home together, his muscles already straining, Bokuto’s happy he came, happy he can help.

They get out into the quiet, night air, and Kuroo shakes his head. He blinks a few times, then opens his eyes wider. “Bokuto! You’re here!” He says, his voice different than it was before, a little more alert.

“Yep, I came to get you. I think you need to go to bed.”

Kuroo hums in agreement, “bed sounds good.”

For as sleepy as he sounds, every couple hundred feet, Kuroo seems to get a burst of energy. He’ll sing a couple lines from some of his favorite songs and start dancing like a limp noodle, still attached to Bokuto’s side.

“I learned my passion in the good old fashioned school of loverboys,” Kuroo slurs out into the night sky, swaying side to side and gesturing wildly with his arm that’s not wrapped around Bokuto’s middle.

Bokuto laughs, “I bet you did, Kuroo.”

“Kou,” Kuroo says softly, and the use of the nickname catches him off-guard. Bokuto stumbles on the sidewalk but quickly rights himself before they both go tumbling down. “Freddie Mercury was a treasure. Did you know that?”

“I do, “he swallows thicky before adding, “you remind me all the time, Tetsu.” He likes the way that name feels on his tongue.

Slowly but surely, they make it home in one piece as Kuroo entertains them and the whole neighborhood with his favorites, one or two lines at a time.

Bokuto gets him inside, has him sit down on the floor so Bokuto can help him take off his difficultly-laced boots and heavy coat. Once he’s free from both, Kuroo lies down on the vinyl “wood” flooring and looks up at Bokuto standing above him.

“Do you want to shower or go straight to bed?” Bokuto asks, hand held out, ready to help him up again when he’s ready.

Kuroo seems to weigh his options, tipping his head side-to-side along the floor before he points a finger up at Bokuto and announces, “Shower! But I need water first. A lot of it, I think.”

Bokuto’s happy to oblige that request and sits him down at their tiny kitchen table for two, and gets him a glass of water and a glass of orange juice. He smiles down at the slumped form of Kuroo, hands on his hips, authoritative. “Water to hydrate, orange juice to replenish everything you’ve lost.” He groans, tilting his head to the side, “I wish I had another sports drink, but I’m out.”

Instead of going straight for either, Kuroo stares at him, those eyes starting to brim over with tears again suddenly. “You’re so good to me, Kou. What would I do without you?”

And it’s not like Kuroo doesn’t say nice things like that when he’s sober, but when he’s drunk like this they spill out so freely, so vulnerably, that it knocks the wind out from Bokuto’s lungs and makes it hard to speak.

“I’m sure you’d manage. You’re clever,” Bokuto finally manages to say.

Kuroo shakes his head wildly after downing half a glass of water. “Nuh-uh. No way. I need you.”

Again. No air. Lungs empty. Chest tight.

He gets his bearings back enough to sit down across from Kuroo and get an earful of what happened at the bar that night - who drank what, who danced where, and who made out with whom. Kuroo didn’t make out with anybody and that thought leaves Bokuto feeling relieved.

At least somewhat hydrated again, Kuroo makes his own way to the shower, bursting out in more lines from songs on the way there. Bokuto makes sure Kuroo has clean sweatpants and a t-shirt to wear when he gets out, then he leaves him to wash off a fun evening’s worth of sweat and grime.

Bokuto folds down the blankets on Kuroo’s bed and then does the same in his own, ready to shed all the day’s layers and go to bed naked, like the universe intended. He goes back out into the kitchen to get Kuroo one more glass of water, humming a few bars of the last song Kuroo sang.

He hears him shuffle his feet down the hallway.

“Bokuto?” Kuroo calls out sleepily.

Bokuto pops around the corner of the kitchen wall, glass of water ready.

Kuroo’s hair is towel-tousled and he’s got one leg of his pants stuck above his knee while the other hangs like it’s supposed to.

“The hot mess cleans up nicely!” He chuckles, holding out the water.

Kuroo doesn’t take it. His eyes have that now-familiar watery sheen to them and Bokuto readies himself to say whatever distracting or comforting thing Kuroo might need next.

“Can I sleep in your bed?” Kuroo asks, rubbing at his sleepy eyes.

“What? No!” Bokuto howls. “You’re huge. And leggy. And you kick!”

“I know,” there’s a watery sound to his voice now, too.

Bokuto thought the last bit might make him laugh, their usual best friend back-and-forth, but now that he’s looking at him, watching the way he’s deflating as he comes down from the excitement of the night, he decides to change plans.

“I made your bed all nice for you,” he says, trying to steer a still quite-drunk Kuroo into sleeping off whatever’s on his mind. He only gets this kind of teary-eyed-drunk if something’s actually bothering him, something stuffed down under all his winning grins.

Best to let him sleep, Bokuto tells himself, we’ll talk in the morning.

Kuroo stops rubbing his eyes. His hands drop to his sides, defeated. “We take naps together on the couch all the time. It’s the same.” Head down, he lifts his gaze to glance at Bokuto through his eyelashes, water dripping down from stay strands of hair.

“You’re too excellent of a person to look this pitiful right now,” Bokuto smiles, trying to still smooth things over the way he knows how - remind people of how great they are.

Kuroo sniffles and shrugs his shoulders.

Foot tapping with indecision, Bokuto chews his lip. There’s no harm in it. Clingy drunk Kuroo’s just reached a new level of cling. And he’s clean now, no longer the sweaty, singing mess he was a little while ago.

And, he tells himself, if he needs anything in the night I’ll be right there.

“Fine. You can sleep in my bed. But,” he holds out the water, “you have to drink this first.”

When they nap on the couch together, it’s always because they fell asleep while watching something. Bokuto’s on his side. Kuroo’s on his. Sometimes, though, especially now that it’s gotten cold, Kuroo will crawl over to his side and slide into the too-small space between Bokuto’s back and the couch.

Tucked together in his bed, it feels similar enough. Kuroo’s legs take up too much space and tangle between his. One of his arms is tossed around Bokuto, like he’s holding on. It’s all similar, but somehow really, really different. Bokuto doesn’t worry about why, he’s not one to overthink, so he takes it as it is - a really warm and happy way to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2! Yay!  
> Ends with platonic cuddles. You know. The kind that make Bokuto's heart all warm and happy.  
> Oh, these two.  
> They'll get there.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Day 3: lazy days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bokuto and Kuroo spend an evening at home and fall asleep together, a totally normal occurrence in this apartment.

“But friends share and I want to taste yours, too!” Bokuto pouts and then opens his mouth wide, already expecting Kuroo to dump some of his chicken pad thai in there.

He’s not wrong to expect it. Of course he’s going to share. But only because he wants some of what Bokuto’s eating, too. It’s why they order different things, naturally.

Kuroo purposefully gets way too much on the end his chopsticks, the noodles clumped up together, and he shoves it in Bokuto’s face before he can react. Some of it ends up in his mouth but, despite Bokuto’s best effort, a bunch ends up on his shirt, too.

He laughs hard, half-chewed noodles in his mouth.

Kuroo makes a fake gagging sound but it breaks into a laugh of his own, big and loud to match Bokuto’s joy and volume.

“Close your mouth,” Kuroo demands when he gets his voice back.

Bokuto does one more round of showing off his nasty, half-chewed food. Kuroo playfully kicks him in the leg, but it only makes Bokuto laugh more.

Even with a mouthful of mushy food, that laugh is still one of Kuroo’s favorite sounds.

***

“Are we really gonna watch another?” Kuroo asks, yawning so hard he feels the stretch in his jaw. He slips farther down from where he was resting on Bokuto’s shoulder and falls into the crook of his elbow. He looks up at Bokuto, pulling the blanket he got from the back of the couch further up until it reaches his chin.

“Of course! We can’t stop now. There’s only one left. It’s a trilogy. You can break ‘em up.”

“But I’m so sleepy.”

“You know you wouldn't go to bed anyway. You’d just sit in your corner of the couch or lie in bed on your phone.”

Kuroo grunts, “True.”

“So,” Bokuto stares down at him, eyes bright and wide even in the dim room. “Third one, third one, third one,” he starts to chant, soft at first bit quickly rising in intensity as his face gets closer and closer to Kuroo’s.

“Alright, alright already,” Kuroo pushes his face away and Bokuto licks his hand. “Gross.”

Bokuto snorts out a laugh and reaches for the remote.

“You’re dangerously hard to say no to, Bo.”

Bokuto grins in the light of the TV. “I know, but it’s only ‘cause I have the best ideas.”

***

By the time the credits roll, they’re both asleep, tucked in under the blanket that fully consumed Kuroo and most of Bokuto over the course of the movie. Bokuto managed to stretch out enough that his sleeping head can rest on the armrest instead of dipping back and forth while he tries to prop himself up on his arm, like he usually does.

It was a tough battle, though. Kuroo takes up a lot of space, stretching out like a cat and taking up as much space as he can. His head found a final place to sleep on Bokuto’s thigh, “a good, solid pillow,” as he calls it.

Bokuto, for all his muscle and bulk, squeezes himself together as tight as he can so Kuroo can have space when they’re awake, but once they fall asleep on the couch, like they have been doing more often lately than they used to, all bets are off. Bokuto shifts and adjusts in his sleep until one arm is tucked around Kuroo’s upper chest, like he’s holding him there on the couch so he won’t fall off.

Kuroo does fall off sometimes.

Bokuto, too.

Less often now, though. They have a good system going, their bodies finding routine in the other’s company while they sleep.

Eventually one of them will get up, usually Kuroo. He’ll try and wake Bokuto so he can move to his own bed and be more comfortable. But if the other man won’t stir, he’ll tuck that blanket around him like he’s been doing for over a year now and give a kiss on a forehead before Kuroo leaves for the comfort of his own bed.

But sometimes, once in a while, even if one of them wakes up, their sleepy minds will refuse to let them separate. They’ll stay there on the couch, regardless of the aches and stiff joints they’ll wake up with in the morning, or Kuroo will follow Bokuto to his bed where they’ll stay together, just with a lot more room. Sometimes it’s Kuroo’s bed, but they both agree Bokuto has nicer sheets.

Kuroo has the good blanket, though, so he brings it and drapes it over them both so they'll stay warm.

Those are the nights they sleep the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit shorter today - work was bananas. Trying to teach elementary students online has been INTERESTING.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed two grown ass men who can't figure out they're a couple and have been for, like, over a year already.


	4. Day 4: summer nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo reflects on their situation, still as blind as ever, but... thinking. Then later, Bokuto sprains his ankle and needs some cheering up with a summer surprise.

Kuroo looks at the handmade card in his hard and knows, objectively, that him and Bokuto’s friendship is different than most.

In his big, blocky handwriting, Bokuto’s written “happy 3rd apartment-versary!” He can tell how from all the faintly erased pencil marks that it took him a few tries to get “-versary” right. Around the edges of the words he’s drawn little cartoon versions of the two of them - cooking, playing video games, falling asleep on the couch, and one where tiny, cartoon Bokuto is giving tiny, cartoon Kuroo a kiss on the cheek.

Because pecks on the cheek or kisses on foreheads are a part of their friendship.

And it isn’t more than friendship, Kuroo fights with himself, because if he was in love, he’d know it.

They hug all the time, have for years, but that’s because Bokuto’s a hugger. The pick you up and squeeze you kind of hugger.

They take naps together and a few times a month Kuroo falls asleep in his bed, but those are on the nights when he doesn’t feel like being alone.

And the kisses, those are just an extension of them.

Again, if it were romantic love, he would know.

He knows that Bokuto’s attractive. He thought that about him the first time they met, but there wasn’t some big explosion of romantic interest. There was nothing like you see in movies or read in books. He didn’t have some big moment when love overtook him. And he’s not had anything like that in three years.

And he doesn’t want to ask him out to some fancy restaurant or do any of those kind of date things. He likes what they already do together.

So, they’re friends.

Plain and simple.

He holds the card in his hands like it’s something precious and worries, not for the first time, that maybe it isn’t so simple.

***

Bokuto is a sad pile of doom and gloom on his bed. He moved the sad party from the couch to his bed this afternoon, dragging hopping on one leg so he doesn’t put any weight on his bad ankle.

He refuses to use the crutches the doctor gave him because of course he does. Bokuto’s bright and full of life, but he’s stubborn.

And the moods, while less frequent now, still overtake him now and then.

This one’s understandable. During summer training for the Black Jackals, he sprained his ankle. It was a case of simply jumping at the wrong place at the wrong time. He slipped and landed weird and now he’s out for a at least a week, judging by all the swelling.

Today the mood’s gotten worse because it’s also their university’s summer festival tonight. Bokuto loves it. He eats his way through every stall, Kuroo happily in tow, winning little junky prizes for Bokuto to keep in his room all night long.

But there’s no way he’s walking on that ankle tonight. The injury just happened yesterday and Bokuto’s awful with those crutches, bumbling and awkward, and there’s no way he’s hopping for hours.

Kuroo hears his door close with a heavy thud from where he’s standing in their kitchen. He sighs, looking through the cabinets to see if there’s a different tea he could make, something else to bring and cheer him up. As he’s pushing everything in their cabinets to the side to hunt for something new, he comes across a dumb, tiny cup he won for Bokuto two years ago as their summer festival. The anpanman art on the side has barely survived all the washing.

He gets an idea.

It’s going to require a trip to the store, and thank goodness he’s put in those extra hours at his part time job, but it’s going to be good.

He hopes.

Hours later, Kuroo leaves their kitchen finally, sweat-drenched and needing a shower. He hops in and out quickly, not wanting to wait any longer or risk Bokuto coming out and ruining the surprise.

Freshly cleaned and no longer smelling like cooking oil, hair down with no time to fix it, he knocks on Bokuto’s door and hears a grumble in reply.

“I’m comin’ in, Bo,” he announces and cracks open the door. Bokuto’s sprawled, shirt off, across his bed with a fan pointing at him, looking like all the life’s been drained from his body.

Dramatic, yes, but sincere, Kuroo thinks. Bokuto wears his giant heart right on his sleeve for the world to see.

“I got a surprise for you.”

“Can’t get up. I’m broken,” Bokuto sulks.

“Not even for food?”

“Not hungry.”

“Now I know that’s a lie. You’ve never been not hungry for a minute in your whole life. I’ll help you up, just come on.”

It takes some more encouraging but, with Bokuto propped up on his shoulder, Kuroo leads him out to the living room--

Where he’s done his best to decorate the place with handmade banners and stuff he managed to buy at the 100 yen store. It all looks really cheesy and bad, but the moment Bokuto sees it, the arm around Kuroo holds him in a tight hug. 

“You did all this? How? Did you make all the decor-- oh my god, you made food!”

“I told you I did.”

“Yeah, but it’s festival food!”

On paper plates across the old coffee table they usually eat at, Kuroo’s served up fried chicken, salted cucumbers, and his attempts at yakisoba and takoyaki (not as good as the real stuff, but he gave a valiant effort).

“Oh my god, it all looks so good. How did-- when did - how--?” Bokuto’s brain gets stuck on a loop of questions.

Kuroo pulls him a little closer and gives a big, messy kiss on his cheek. “Only took a few hours and I didn’t want us to miss the festival. We can play games later, too, figure out lame prizes for who wins rounds of Mario Kart or something.” Kuroo laughs.

Bokuto turns his head. Kuroo expects some kind of happy comment, or a big laugh of his own, but Bokuto just looks at him, eyes soft and lips parted.

Kuroo grows still, their eyes locked.

And he feels it.

There’s a shift.

His heart clenches and he stutters out anything to end the moment because he’s not ready. “T-time to eat, Bo. I’m starving.”

Bokuto doesn’t move right away. He keeps staring at him. When he finally moves, it’s to smile, gentle and kind. “Thank you, Kuroo, for everything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo's having THOUGHTS. And he FEELS things. σ(≧ε≦ｏ)  
> Do you... do you think Bokuto is THINKING and FEELING, too? Eh? Eh?


	5. Day 5: magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bokuto and Kuroo receive a wedding invitation with both their names on it, side-by-side.

Kuroo’s been acting weird.

Bokuto’s used to Kuroo’s many moods. He knows how to celebrate with him when he’s happy. He knows how to cheer him up when he’s down. He knows how to be a hug machine when Kuroo’s feeling really down and really clingy (and he can tell he needs hugs because he gets really, really quiet).

Bokuto cares a lot about making sure all of his friends are happy, but he works really hard to make Kuroo happy because they live together and he wants to make Kuroo's life as good as it can be. When Kuroo's happy, he's happy, too. And when Kuroo's down, it makes Bokuto feel awful, so he's gotten great at helping him over the years.

But Kuroo's recent mood doesn’t fit any of his normal patterns, so Bokuto's not sure what to do.

For the past few weeks, Kuroo’s been a little too quiet, but not at all sad. It’s like there’s some awesome thing going on in his life, but he won’t tell Bokuto about it.

Which is super weird, because he tells Bokuto everything.

And that makes Bokuto have a strange, stirred-up, uneasy feeling in his gut.

Especially since he’s been extra quiet since they got a wedding invitation in the mail.

It’s from one of Bokuto’s teammates on the Black Jackals. They got the cute save the date a few months ago, and Kuroo didn’t seem to look at it twice. But now that the invitation’s here?

He’ll catch Kuroo looking at the fancy, silver-trimmed card on their refrigerator, staring at it like it’s got him under some sort of spell. He’ll run his fingers along where their names are handwritten in fancy calligraphy, side-by-side on the same line.

In fact, he’s doing it right now. He hasn’t even heard Bokuto walking into the kitchen, and Bokuto knows he’s not light on his feet because Kuroo constantly fusses at him for stomping around.

“Kuroo, you need something?” He calls out.

Kuroo’s finger stays fixed on the card, tracing that same, fancy line under their names.

“Yo, you alright?”

Kuroo shakes his head as breaks out of the trance he seems to be in more often these days.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says quickly, his voice soft, “was just getting a drink.” He opens the fridge and fishes out a soda can. When he turns, he’s smiling but he has an expression on his face that Bokuto hasn’t been able to figure out, even though he’s seen it for the past few days.

“You sure you’re feeling okay?” He asks again, because he’s Boktuo and Bokuto makes sure his friends are always feeling their best. And while Kuroo looks happy, there’s something else there, and maybe he needs some help.

“Just a little spacey today. Thinking about an assignment I have due soon.”

“Oh, okay.” Bokuto tries to smile back, but he knows he fails. He can’t make his muscles do what his heart doesn’t want to, and right now his heart is stuck wondering what Kuroo is hiding from him. He’s sure there’s something now.

Kuroo passes him in the doorway to their kitchen and places a hand on his shoulder. He grins at Bokuto, the smile reaching his eyes, and he says, like a promise, “I’m doing great, Bo, just figuring some stuff out.”

“For class?”

“Yeah, for class.”

That night Bokuto wakes up in the middle of the night and decides to get himself a glass of milk to fall back asleep because that’s what his parents always did for him. He stomps out into the living room, but halts his steps when he realizes that Kuroo’s slumped over their coffee table, asleep on stack of open textbooks.

Maybe it is just school, he tells himself. Kuroo’s work has been picking up a lot lately.

Bokuto continues to the kitchen on lighter steps, deciding to get two glasses of milk. He’ll wake him up, give him some milk, and then tuck him into his bed, or Bokuto's bed if that's what he needs. He nods to himself and smile, it’s a good idea. And it will help Kuroo have a better day tomorrow.

He stops at the fridge, the light from the living room hitting the silver trim on the invitation and catching his eye. He hasn’t really looked at it, but up close like this, it is really nice. Bokuto runs a finger along the edge to feel the embossed trim and then he lets himself drift down to their names--

Bokuto Koutarou and Kuroo Tetsurou

\--side-by-side in beautiful calligraphy. He traces along the characters of each of their names, enjoying the way the texture of the card feels under his finger, and the way their names look written like that. Together.

He blinks, unsure of how long he was standing there. He blinks a few more times and then opens the fridge, grabbing the milk to set it on the counter so he can get their two favorite cups. But when he closes the door, he looks at the card again, looks at their names together on that line, and maybe he understands a little why Kuroo keeps falling under its spell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bokuto, you silly boy, you're in love!
> 
> Alright, it's super duper short and I stretched the prompt a little, and maybe heaved on the "magic" imagery a little heavy in spots, but it works. *wink* At least I hope so. And c'mon, Love is totally a spell, and Kuroo is *feeling it.*
> 
> The next little chapter will be THE WEDDING. I am looking forward to writing that tomorrow!


	6. Day 6: smiles/laughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bokuro and Kuroo attend a wedding together and Kuroo has plans to tell Bokuto what he's discovered about his own feelings.

Kuroo looks at himself in the mirror, dressed in a suit that fits him almost perfectly, but not quite. The arms are a little short, or at least they feel that way. The jacket feels a little too loose, too. But maybe all that is because he is uncomfortable in his own skin today, alight with a decision he made one night while staring at that invitation.

He’s been building up to it for two months now, but he has a plan, and he’s maybe, sort of, a little bit ready to tell Bokuto how he feels.

A wedding seems like a good place to say the words that have slowly taken form over the last several weeks. Compared to how long it took him to realize how he felt about Bokuto, that was a positively speedy turn around time. Looking back, he feels like an idiot for ever thinking otherwise.

It’s always been Bokuto.

Kuroo met him when he was bright-eyed first year who couldn’t stop nervously laughing to cover up how insecure he felt at that first summer training camp. He barely knew his own team, and his best friend Kenma was still months away from joining him in high school, and now he was supposed to be completely fine with meeting a few schools’ worth of brand new people? No way. So he laughed, constantly, his cackle loud and obnoxious even to his own ears but he couldn’t stop it.

Until he ran into Bokuto. Literally. Kuroo was in the middle of another head-back awkward laugh at Yaku’s expense when he ran into Bokuto’s back because he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going.

Kuroo’s heart sank. He’d just smacked into a player from another school. He just couldn’t do anything right today. But then that player from Fukurodani turned around, a huge smile on his face, his eyes bright and golden (they were actually golden and Kuroo’s never gotten over that fact, not even now), and he said, “Hey! Hey! Hey! I’m Bokuto, nice to meet ‘ya!” Then he threw an arm around Kuroo’s shoulder and asked him what position he played and if he could practice blocking for his spikes.

Kuroo’s gone on a few dates since starting university, but they’ve never gone anywhere because he could never really be present at any of them. He kept thinking about that same golden-eyed, grinning man waiting for him at home.

It’s always, always been Bokuto.

And maybe at a wedding, surrounded by the celebration of romantic love, Bokuto will be a bit more wrapped up in the idea of them becoming something more, too.

Kuroo sighs heavily, looking at his profile in the mirror and shifting his shoulders to resettle the jacket once more. Even if Bokuto doesn’t return his feelings, he has at least convinced himself that his friend is a good enough person to take it in stride and still be friends.

No, that’s not quite right. Bokuto’s not just a good enough person. He’s the best person. And if he doesn’t feel the same, Kuroo knows deep down in his guts that Bokuto will feel guilty for a bit, but he’ll also work really hard to make sure Kuroo doesn’t feel dumb, and their friendship won’t suffer when Kuroo has to move on.

And if he feels the same, then--

Kuroo shakes his head. No, if he thinks about that, then he’ll start sweating through his dress shirt again and he doesn’t have another one to change into.

Once he summons the courage to join Bokuto in their living room, his heart skips at beat when he takes in the sight of Bokuto all dressed up. Kuroo’s never seen him in anything but sweats and casual clothes, and in a suit that his chest is just barely contained by, he looks exquisite.

“Damn, Kuroo, you look good!” Bokuto laughs when he sees him.

And Kuroo wants to say the same, but he’s momentarily forgotten how to make words with his mouth.

***

Kuroo’s been careful not to look over at Bokuto during the ceremony. The couple’s vows were handwritten and beautiful. He knows his eyes are welling up and threatening to spill over because he’s thinking about what he’d say to Bokuto if they were dressed up like damn Disney princes and saying all of the things that are in their hearts to one another in front of their friends and families. If he looks over at him now, even for a peek, he knows he’ll turn into a sniffling, crying mess and he’d rather not do that right now.

He feels Bokuto’s hand brush against his and he squeezes his eyes tight, rehearsing again and again in his head all the things he’s going to tell him sometime during the reception.

Bokuto’s hand brushes past his again, but this time, he feels his fingers thread through his own.

Kuroo feels a lump growing in his throat, his heart racing. Bokuto starts moving beside him and Kuroo’s arm starts to tingle when he feels Bokuto’s body settle close to his.

“Kuroo,” Bokuto whispers, his face close to Kuroo’s ear.

Kuroo blinks back the tears in his eyes and, without turning, whispers back, “Yeah?”

“Dude, are we married?”

It catches him off guard and he has a watery, sort of, half laugh that gets caught in his throat. “What?”

“Kuroo, are we already married?” His tone is so serious and it has the opposite effect on Kuroo. He feels so light on his feet like he could float away at any moment.

“I think we are, Bo,” he answers simply, then pinches his lips together to hold himself together.

“Like, I think we’ve been married a really long time.” 

“I agree,” he nods and sniffles.

“Did you just figure it out, too?” Bokuto asks, wonder in his voice.

Kuroo grips his hand tighter in his own. “No, I figured it out a few months ago.”

“Man! When were you gonna tell me?” Bokuto’s raises his voice a little and a woman turns around to shoot daggers at them with her eyes. He whispers sorry.

“I was gonna tell you tonight.”

“Oh, awesome. Well, I still wanna hear what you were gonna say. You know, if it’s nice.”

“I hope it’s nice. I worked hard on it.” Kuroo feels a tear drop down his face, overcome with joy and a hundred other indescribable emotions.

“Cool, that makes me happy. I'll think of something nice to say, too. And then we should get married for real because they got a lot of gifts and we need stuff for our kitchen.”

Kuroo smiles wide, holding back another weird-sounding, happy-crying laugh, “That was a shit proposal, Bo.”

“I’ll try again later. We’ll figure it out together.” Bokuro squeezes his hand back even harder, like one his perfect, pick-you-up hugs but with one hand.

“We always do eventually.”

Bokuto takes a moment to say anything back, but when he does, Kuroo gathers the courage to turn and watch those eyes grow big and bright while Bokuto smiles wide and says, “This is going to be fun.”

Kuroo snuffles hard, a few more happy tears running down his cheeks now. “Everything with you is fun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the part I was looking forward to all week! ALL WEEK! o(*>ω<*)o  
> I just *lost* myself in writing this after work today, let go and gave in to the fluff, so I hope you got some fluffies in your heart, too.  
> Only one more day of Bokuroo week left! I'll see y'all tomorrow. Thanks for reading today, too!


	7. Day 7: sunrise/sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With their feelings out in the open, Bokuto and Kuroo look forward to the rest of their days together.

Bokuto starts to stir awake. He stretches, yawning loudly, and moves his legs like he’s going to swing them over the side of his bed and get up for his morning run.

Kuroo latches on tighter around Bokuto’s middle and yanks him closer. “No running. Only cuddling.”

He falls back into the hold and places a hand on top of Kuroo’s, laughing softly. “Tetsu, c’mon, I gotta. I’ve skipped my run every morning this week and it’s killing me at practice.”

“But it’s too early,” Kuroo mumbles into his back, snuggling up closer.

“I run and greet the sun, you know that.”

“Greet me instead.”

Bokuto can hear the pout in his voice. He shifts so he can turn and look at him properly, but Kuroo grips tighter like he’s still trying to keep him there.

“I’m just flipping over, dude,” he huffs, turning on to his other side and flopping back down on his pillow.

Kuroo’s hair is tousled and lying in crazy lines on his pillow and across his face. Bokuto reaches over to brush a few out of his eyes. Kuroo presses a kiss to his hand before Boktuo lets it fall back down to the bed. 

His eyes drift to the ceiling for a moment before he asks, “Can you still call me ‘dude?’”

“Yeah, why not?” Bokuto replies.

“Well, for starters, the things we did last night don’t feel very dude-like.”

“Twice, what we did twice last night,” Bokuto waggles his eyebrows and Kuroo’s grin stretches wider.

“Two and half times.”

“You hollering at me that my ‘ass don’t quit’ when I walked to the bathroom doesn’t count as a half. And I figure I can call you whatever I want now. You don’t like it?”

“Nah, I do, but can you call me Tetsu again?” Kuroo’s face goes all lovestruck and dopey.

“Tetsu,” he says in his own dopey voice, and Bokuto can’t help but roll into him, wrap his strong arms around his back, hold him close and kiss the breath right out of him.

Going from only kissing Kuroo’s cheek sometimes to kissing him everywhere, every moment he can was the most natural change in the world. It was like he’d been holding himself back all these years and now he could give in to what his heart and body wanted to do the whole time. When their lips meet, Bokuto feels like the air around them tastes sweeter, and when their bodies touch, he feels like he’s finally home.

“Tetsu,” he says again when they part just so he can see that smile on Kuroo’s face when he says it, “I have an idea.”

“Oh yeah?” Kuroo purrs, leaning back in for another kiss.

Bokuto pulls back slightly, just enough so he can see Kuroo’s reaction when he says, “you could join me on my run this morning.”

As soon as he says it, his heart starts to beat a little faster, excited at the idea of Kuroo joining him in his morning rituals. They can go for a run, shower (together, that’d be nice), and then Kuroo could make them a big breakfast, way better than the protein Bokuto usually chokes down after his run if there’s no leftovers in the fridge. It’d be perfect.

“But it’s dark outside,” Kuroo says slowly, his face tight with a grimace of a grin, like he loves Bokuto just enough to not say no. In fact, that’s what Bokuto’s hoping for.

“Please,” he lets his face go soft and his bottom lip jut out, “we’ve done your kind of morning for a whole week. Can we have one of mine?”

Kuroo stretches and groans, “I hate mornings.”

“I know, but--”

“But I love you,” Kuroo finishes the sentence and presses a kiss to Bokuto’s forehead. “Fine. let’s have a ‘Kou morning,’ but when I collapse because I eat too many chips and am no longer the captain of a volleyball team, then you better pick me up and carry me home.”

“Deal!” Bokuto agrees readily, already jumping out of bed, his body brimming with excitement of having company, the very best company, on his sunrise run.

***

“I’m still so achy,” Kuroo whines from the couch. “I want to go to bed right now.”

Bokuto pops his head around the corner from the kitchen where he’s finishing cleaning up from dinner. “Perfect, we stay up too late anyway.”

“I like staying up late. Late is when the good stuff happens.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Bokuto yells as he resumes his work at the sink.

“Late is when the weird stuff comes on TV. It’s when you feel like you’re breaking the rules just by existing. It’s when you get all the best ideas because thoughts just naturally become weirder after midnight.”

“And morning is when things are new and fresh,” he calls back, “when you can look out at the sun and shout, ‘today is going to be awesome!’” Bokuto sets the last dish in the drying rack and towels off his hands.

He hears Kuroo laughs from their living room. “I fear your positivity is contagious. You haven’t made me a morning person just yet, but--”

“You’re willing to try for me?” Bokuto rounds the corner and crosses the room in big steps so he can plop down on the couch, his legs crashing into Kuroo’s when he does.

“As long as I can get a nap.”

“That’s fair, I guess. Thanks for coming this morning. You’re slow but you’re fun.”

“Kou!”

“I meant it as a good thing. I laughed on my run today. I don’t usually get to do that. Will you come with me again tomorrow?”

An actual look of pain crosses Kuroo’s features before he smiles softly. “Yeah, Kou, I’ll come with you tomorrow. But if I go to sleep while the sun’s still up, you can’t judge me.”

“Never ever would. Besides, the sun’s starting to go down anyway. You can put your head in my lap and fall asleep there.”

Kuroo hums, his eyes closing as he considers the deal, “That sounds nice.”

Pulling the blanket from the back of the couch, Kuroo stretches his long legs along the couch and places his head on Bokuto’s thigh. Out their living room window, they talk about nothing, like they’ve always done, while watching the the sky turn goldeny shades of pinks and purples before the deep blues of night take over. Kuroo doesn’t fall asleep, but he closes his eyes as Bokuto threads gentle fingers through his hair.

The room grows dark and Bokuto carefully lifts himself up from the couch so he can turn on the lamp without moving Kuroo too much. When he resettles, Kuroo’s looking up at him from his lap with no smirk or grin, just a look of contentment etched in his expression.

“Today was nice,” Kuroo says, still looking at Bokuto like there’s a million words behind those eyes that he’s not saying quite yet, but Bokuto’s not worried, because they all seem like really nice words that he’ll get to hear soon enough.

“I liked it a lot. And do you know what the best part is?” Bokuto presses tender fingers along the curve of Kuroo’s cheek.

“What’s the best part, Kou?”

“We’re gonna have so many more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yesterday was the Big One, and today was just a little "aww," a little happy sigh after the wedding feels.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read along with me this week as I wrote. And thank you to everyone who reads this after Bokuroo week 2020 has ended. Bokuroo is such a warm, cozy ship and I enjoy getting to imagine little worlds for them every now and then.
> 
> I hope you felt some warm fuzzies while reading this week! I know it did me some good to whisk myself away to the land of tropes and lovliness for a few hours everyday.
> 
> Thank you again and HAPPY BOKUROO WEEK!

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Bokuroo Week 2020! The world is freaking weird right now. I hope you enjoy living in some slice of life Bokuroo fluff for a little while with me. No angst here - smoooooth sailing. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> This idea started as a [thread on my twitter](https://twitter.com/HeyMellieJellie/status/1090058728349544450) that I've not been able to stop thinking about since. For me, Bokuroo are 1,000% that couple that takes forever to confess because they fall in love in little steps over time without realizing it. *happy sigh*
> 
> Kudos, comments, and bookmarks never fail to make me smile (and I always reply to comments!).
> 
> Chat with me on Twitter - [@HeyMellieJellie](https://twitter.com/HeyMellieJellie).
> 
> (And the title comes from the song "Into Happiness" by Phantogram - go enjoy. It's a good song.)


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